(not mine)
she paints a pretty picture
but the stoty has a twist
her paint brushes is a razor
And her canvas is her wrist
She paints a pretty picture
in a color that is blood red
Well she uses her sharp pant brush
she ends up finely dead
her pretty picture fading
Quite slowly down her arm
the blood is no longer racing through her
she can no longer do harm
She panted a pretty picture
but the picture picture had a twist
her mind with a razor
and her heart was her wrists
